


Things I Want You To Hear

by Exorciststuck



Series: Johndaveweek 2017 [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Canon Bro, Johndaveweek 2017, M/M, references to past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 13:52:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11403750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exorciststuck/pseuds/Exorciststuck
Summary: "What I want to hear aren’t words like thoseRound and round, a whirlwind of thoughtsThe feeling that I wasn’t able to shakeGets in my way more than anything else."





	Things I Want You To Hear

You remembered when you were a kid, [you always wanted to disappear.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9y65p_pO_5g) It was one of those offhanded thoughts you’d have, lying on the rough concrete of your apartment roof, trying your best to ignore the blooming bruises and throbbing scrapes and cuts left on your body. It was soothing to you, some sort of fucked up coping mechanism, imagining yourself floating through nothingness. No responsibilities, no reminders of the world you currently lived in, and nobody to remember you enough to mourn and make you feel guilty for being gone. 

These days, your mind didn’t go down those morbid roads very often. You were a far cry from the scared child lying on the gravelled roof of a highrise in Houston, walking down the sleepy suburb streets of John’s childhood. He was there beside you, holding your hand casually in his own, skin on skin. There was a small restaurant that he liked, a little hole in the wall pizza place that he promised had the best chicken strips in Washington, and whenever he was too lazy to cook the two of you would walk there and sit in the window booth, a buffet of sauces laid out between the two of you. Today was one of those days, where the sun was beating down for the first time and him, unused to the heat after a mild spring, had casually proclaimed it too warm to cook and taken you out. Because it was so bright and sunny out, you’d elected to take your camera, just in case something picturesque showed up.

Still, as much as you considered yourself distanced and changed from that scared and broken kid, he was still you in the past. And sometimes, in these quiet moments, John would squeeze your hand in his own or you’d meet eyes for just a moment too long, and you’d feel something in your chest tighten up, choking the words right out of your mouth. In those moments, where feelings of adoration and inadequacy and sudden, paralyzing fear combined in some sort of sick cocktail, you’d be tossed back to that childhood memory. In that brief, selfish moment, you’d want to disappear- to run away from all the feelings that threatened to choke you. 

You just wanted to be beside him forever. But the simplicity of that desire only made the fear that he would leave more pressing in some odd, paradoxical way. After all, if you weren’t with him, where were you? And what would be left of you after something tore the person closest to you away? You just didn’t think you were built to be alone, not after years of feeling so much like you were. 

It must have been a bad day for you, that was all. Normally these sorts of philosophical dreadful things didn’t get on your nerves. The fear that you’d end up alone was always there, hanging in the back of your mind, and it wasn’t new to you, but for it to be taking such a primary position in your mind led you to believe it just wasn’t your day.

You heard a cat howl from someone’s backyard, and automatically you stopped, reaching for the camera hanging comfortably from your neck. John stopped with you, always willing to indulge your hobbies- even if he was starving- but he didn’t let go of your hand. The cat kept meowing, and your eyes strained to find the source.

“Dave, are you listening?” 

You snapped your head back to look at him, scouring your brain to see if you’d picked up on the conversation somehow between all your loud thoughts. John frowned, in what you assumed was disappointment, and you bowed your head in embarrassment. 

“You’ve been quiet all day… Is something wrong?” Of course he’d notice. Immediately, you wanted to say no, because there wasn’t. You were safe and comfortable for the first time in your life, holding hands with your favourite person in the world, going to eat greasy, salty pieces of chicken. But there _was_ something wrong, and it was you. You, always losing yourself in thought _(what if he leaves? Who even stays together this long? You’re lucky you’ve even been friends this long,)_ always dwelling on your painful past, _(it was over anyway, you would never see him again, why did it still weigh on you when you were finally allowed to be happy,)_ always aching, wanting more from him, _(he was holding your hand, how could you be so selfish to want to hold more of him, to have him kiss you and treat you like his dumb action heroes treated their girlfriends.)_

But he couldn’t know just how fucked up you still were inside, you didn’t want him walking on eggshells around you or putting distance in your relationship when it already felt way too far for you. So you shrugged your shoulders, shooting him an apologetic look. “Just tired is all, think I’m getting a cold or something.”

His expression faltered into something more visibly let down, but you could see him trying to disguise it with concern. “Oh… Do you want to go home?” 

“No!” You spoke so suddenly John’s eyes widened, his hand opening for one moment before it closed around yours once more. You continued to speak, free hand fumbling nervously with your camera. “I’m still hungry, can’t hurt to put a bit of fuel in the engine. ‘Sides, maybe I only feel bad ‘cause I haven’t eaten yet, y’know?”

Either John wasn’t convinced, or he was so thoroughly convinced that it made him drop the line of questioning entirely. Both thoughts made your stomach churn, your eyes wandering from him back towards the yards you’d heard that cat. One yard had an expensive looking fountain, water bubbling dramatically up from the centre. Framing the concrete rim on either side were flower bushes, big impressive looking things that were blooming white and fuchsia, their petals drifting down onto the well hydrated lawn. There, you finally found the cat, sitting and crying out for something, head raised high in the air. It made you feel selfish again, because you wanted to take this moment and change it into something else. You didn’t want to think about the past or the future or the way John looked at you sometimes when he thought you weren’t looking, you just wanted to say exactly what was on your mind and make him hear your words the way you used to bombard him with your text as children without him holding you at arms length. 

It made you release that more and more you found yourself becoming a quiet and withdrawn person. And, achingly, you found that just this once, you wanted to be blooming and bright in the early summer warmth. 

“Wait.”

John hadn’t moved an inch, but he turned to face you all the same, one eyebrow raised quizzically.

“There is something wrong, actually. I’m pretty sure you know, ‘cause you always know me way too well, but there’s a whole lot wrong up here,” you pointed at your head, before your hand sank sadly back down to your side. “And I’m fucking terrified, scared _goddamn shitless_ that if I share too much it’s going to change us and I’ll lose you and the last thing I fucking want is to wake up one day and realise you’re gone.”

You’d shifted the tone of the conversation so quickly, but he took it with easy strides, this boy who’d been raised confident and grown more so with age and who you loved so so much, he knew better than to say anything.

He shifted closer, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the steadily warming skin of your hand. It did wonders to relax you, letting you exhale a breath that had gotten trapped in your throat with the rising panic that had come with sharing even a small sliver of the truth. “My brother was never _good_ to me, he was barely fucking decent a lot of the time, and every fucking day I wake up and I remember that it’s okay now, but he’s still there in my head half the fucking time, holding my emotions hostage like some sort of fucked up supervillain, and he’s got me convinced I don’t deserve half the things I’ve got even thousands of miles away, and sometimes it just hits me so fucking hard that this isn’t permanent, that he could be right in some fucked up way and I’ll end up alone and you’ll never have known how much being without you scares me.”

You wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, dislodging your shades in the process, and John stared down at your other hand where he held it between his own, staring at the joints of your fingers where your skin was the darkest. 

“…I don’t know what it’s like having someone like your brother raising you Dave. You know Dad was, well, a normal Dad mostly. But he’s old, and he’s always getting older, and you know he’s smoked for most of his life and one day he just isn’t going to be there anymore. And when he is gone, you’re going to be all I have Dave, I don’t have that many close friends that aren’t Jade and Rose, and they’re so far away, and I like you the best anyway and it makes me feel like I’m more than just some dumb kid trying to pass off being an adult when you think I’m so normal and safe and _good_. And if… If I didn’t make that clear before, I’m sorry, but you’re my best friend Dave.”

His own breathing had gone shaky somewhere along the line, and you rubbed at your eyes more furiously, squeezing his hand to the beat of your heart. It wasn’t everything you’d wanted to say, but that was alright. You had a lot of time to tell him everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got to use my favourite Dave Song for something, thank god. Make sure to turn the subs on to get the full lyrics, because I picked this specific translation since I liked the way it was worded best, and other versions are worded slightly differently.


End file.
